


Aftermath

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Eloped?! [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Conflict Resolution, Humor, M/M, Merlin Salazar and Godric! I don't even know how to tag this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 12:18:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10786611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: Harry feels like a complete bastard and has to decide between self-flagellation and apologizing to Draco.





	Aftermath

The next morning when Harry woke up, he felt like a complete bastard. All during his shower, he replayed his argument over and over in his head. The worst part was that he couldn't decide if he had actually meant all those things he said in anger.

No. The _worst_ part was that he hadn't even been angry at Draco; he'd been angry about his failure to capture the criminal he was hunting _before_ said criminal managed to kill three more muggle women – one of which died mere minutes before Harry and his team finally arrived on the scene. He'd also been angry because the criminal had arranged his lair so that it was full of deadly traps and allowed him to cast hexes at them from a distance as he tried to flee – which resulted in the death of one Auror and a range of injuries to three others.

After his shower, Harry toweled his hair dry and called for Kreacher. “Did Draco come home last night?”

“No Master Harry,” Kreacher answered with a shake of his head.

With a sigh, Harry wondered if he should simply kick his own arse, or go back out to his shed and let it kick his arse for him again. However, trying to apologize to Draco seemed far more important than another round of self-flagellation, so Harry decided to Apparate into Draco's bedroom in the Manor. He'd been granted access, but there was no guarantee that Draco had gone there rather than...

Harry sighed and firmly reminded himself not to waste a moment more. After he arrived in Draco's bedroom, he couldn't help but exhale in relief at the sight of Draco curled up in his bed. He was currently sleeping, but he looked worn out and unhappy – as if he had or currently was suffering from a nightmare.

Harry carefully climbed onto the bed and brushed a hand along Draco's cheek. Draco reacted by whipping his wand out and thrusting it in Harry's face so fast that he could have cast a nasty curse before Harry realized it. Draco looked positively fierce for a moment before his eyes widened in recognition. Blinking rapidly a half dozen or so times, he took a deep breath, and then slowly lowered his wand.

“Harry...?”

“I'm sorry,” Harry confessed in a whisper. “I said a lot of horrible things that I shouldn't have.”

Draco used his wand to scratch the back of his head. “You were right about one thing,” he murmured very softly.

“Which thing?” Harry wondered.

“I _don't_ talk about myself – at least not anything meaningful,” Draco admitted. “I... can't...”

“Er... why not?” Harry asked in concern, the Auror in him suddenly analyzing the way Draco had woken up. That combined with nightmares once or twice a week plus the things Harry had witnessed Draco go through from Voldemort's perspective during the war, well...

“I just... can't...” Draco murmured, his voice dropping in volume at the last word.

“ _Draco_...” Harry exhaled softly, feeling so much sympathy that it was almost heartbreaking. He pulled Draco into his arms and held him tight.

Unable to bear Harry trying to comfort him when he was feeling so vulnerable, Draco pulled back a little, shifting until he could kiss Harry. They did nothing else for a long time. Soft kisses that turned into heated kisses that turned into a sort of sleepy exploration of each other's mouths with no real goal other than to enjoy themselves. As time passed, they shifted to get more comfortable until Harry slipped under the covers with Draco.

Draco inadvertently made the covers slide down almost to their naked waists when he shifted to lie ever so slightly on top of Harry to make continued kissing easy even as he took Harry's shaft in hand and slowly – oh so slowly – stroked it. Harry hummed happily, content to simply enjoy the attention.

It was at that moment, unbeknownst to either of them, that Lucius silently opened the door to Draco's room and walked in. He wasn't expecting to see them and had simply come to return the book he'd borrowed. The only reason he hadn't ordered Muffy to do it was because he planned to borrow another book from Draco's collection and needed to look them over before deciding which one.

Surprised, he stopped short just inside the door and stared at them for a moment. He had no interest in watching his son have any sort of sex, but he was momentarily too shocked to do anything. The look on Draco's face as he kissed Harry was surprisingly tender and open. Not to mention, there was definitely movement under the covers that made it clear that Draco was the one giving pleasure.

When Lucius allowed himself a moment to give any thought at all to what might happen between these two, he rather assumed that Draco simply took advantage of Harry's willingness to give pleasure. This was clearly on a different level altogether. Suddenly pensive, Lucius quietly backed out of the room and shut the door.

 

***

 

After giving each other orgasms and taking a nap – which was much more restful for the both of them than their night had been – they were reluctant to leave the warmth of each other's arms. So, they lay curled up with Harry resting his head on Draco's shoulder and swirling one finger idly across his chest. Meanwhile, Draco lightly stroked the hand of the arm that Harry was laying on up and down Harry's back.

“My favorite color is green,” Draco confessed unexpectedly.

Harry snorted softly in amusement. “Shocker.”

“I think you misunderstand,” Draco grumbled. “It's _not_ Slytherin green. It's a softer shade that's hard to describe. More of a lighter, brighter, emerald shade.” With gold flecks like rays of the sun.

“Alright,” Harry acknowledged softly.

“Although I suppose most shades of green are pleasing to my eye,” Draco added. “That said, I prefer to wear blue, and – when it comes to decorating – I prefer soft and creamy earth tones.”

Rather than say anything, Harry simply kissed Draco's jaw near his ear, which was the closest part to Harry's mouth at the moment.

“My piano is one of my most important possessions because it's what I do when I need to be alone. I play my piano and it helps me drift off into a place of quiet so that it's easier to organize what's in my head and put the things I don't want to think about in their designated compartments.”

They were both silent for a moment. Harry didn't really know what to say, so he rewarded Draco by kissing him again, and also by shifting his hand from Draco's chest to wrap around his side to his back just enough to be a proper embrace. An awkward laying in bed one, but still.

Then Draco sighed. “I don't talk about myself because what is there to talk about? After the war, my life became really very shallow and routine. I own businesses that make me a lot of money without much effort on my part. I drink with and talk about nothing with my friends – and not just Pansy and Blaise, but Millie, Greg, and Theo too. And now Theo's wife Daphne, or actually she's been part of our group on and off for years. It's her sister that I made plans to marry. Other than all of that, there's not really anything in my life to talk about – unless you want the details of every lover I've had, because that's more or less what I've been doing for the past few years.”

“I might be interested in a few of those details at another time, but right now, I'm more curious about what you talk to your friends about,” Harry informed him.

Draco shrugged. “Quidditch. Business. Gossip. Shopping. Plots and schemes. Lovers, shagging, various sexual techniques and toys, and lots and lots of innuendo.”

Harry laughed softly at that. “Sounds close to a typical conversation with my friends. Minus the plots and scheming.” Then he sighed. “There must be more. You must have talked to them about whatever...”

Draco tensed up just a little, but then relaxed again. “Things happened in this room that I do not want to think about. Ever. I haven't talked about them with anyone. Except... Well, I will occasionally talk about the messy unpleasant things with Pansy when she gets me blind drunk – which she does approximately twice a year simply so she can uncover if I've had anything major happen I won't talk about since the last time we were drinking. A few more times a year, I'll get mildly drunk with her and Blaise and/or my other friends, and we'll talk about less important things. It's apparently the only time I'll give the truly salacious details of my sex life.”

“So... You're saying that if I want to know the things you don't want to talk about, I have to get you drunk?” Harry wondered.

Draco pressed his lips together in dismay for a moment, wishing he could kick himself for giving Harry the key to a weapon that could be used against him. Then he sighed. “Yes... I suppose that's something we should actually do at some point. But not...”

“Not until you're ready,” Harry whispered in his ear.

Draco nodded in agreement.

There was another long moment of silence as they both simply held each other. Then Harry sighed.

“I led a team...” He growled in frustration, and then forced himself to continue. “I did nothing wrong. I followed all the protocols and everyone did their jobs both professionally and competently. Even so, the criminal we were after...”

“Did he get away?” Draco wondered, curious despite not usually caring about such things.

“No. We caught him,” Harry stated grimly, as if this fact was upsetting.

“Then...?” Draco lightly pressed for more information.

“He was nearly always at least two steps ahead of us, and when we finally managed to catch up with him, he was ready for us,” Harry growled again, this time running a hand through his hair. “I actually think the only reason we caught him is because he wanted us to! People died! I can't – I just can't –!” He ended with a soft roar of anger and frustration.

“Can't keep doing a job that hurts you this much?” Draco supplied helpfully.

This actually made Harry chuckle wryly. “Actually, I love my job and most days, I wouldn't trade it for anything. I just can't stand when people die – when they don't have to, I mean. I feel like it's my fault. If I had only found him sooner, then those women wouldn't be dead right now. If I had only realized that he was leading us into a trap, my team might not be injured and Perkins wouldn't be dead and –” Harry cut himself off with a sigh of frustration. Then he ground out a sentence that he obviously had to keep telling himself until he believed it. “I did nothing wrong...”

Draco didn't know what to say, so he simply remained silent and rubbed a hand up and down Harry's arm. Then he felt a prickle of curiosity. It took him a moment to work up the courage to say anything, and another moment to figure out how to actually say it.

“Er... Kreacher wouldn't let me follow you when I tried. He explained a little – just enough for me to understand that you were serious about being alone. He mentioned... Can I ask...” It was Draco's turn to growl in frustration before just spitting it out. “What happened to make you summon up Inferi?!”

Harry froze for a moment, and then forced himself to take a breath. “I suppose that _that_ is something that will have to wait until you get _me_ blind drunk.”

“Fair enough,” Draco murmured.

Harry was desperate to change the subject. “Anyway, I'm on a Ministry ordered leave for a few days to give myself time to recover from and process what happened. I'll have to write up a report and I'll _want_ to go visit those who were injured, but other than that, I'll be home.”

Draco sat up somewhat abruptly, which more or less forced Harry to sit up too. Draco gave Harry a somewhat feral grin. Harry was immediately wary since Draco didn't look like he had plans that involved a bed and a lot of orgasms.

“Excellent! That means that this will be the _perfect_ time for us to go through your storage room!”

Harry groaned in extreme reluctance. “Do we _have_ to?”

Draco glared at him lightly. “Yes.”

Harry sighed in defeat and promptly buried himself under the covers.

 

***

 

The next day, which was a Friday, Hermione took part of the day off so that she and Ron could check up on Harry. They both knew that Harry had more than likely gone straight to his shed the moment he returned home from his mission, and if the past was anything to go by, he probably hadn't emerged until sometime Thursday evening. At that point, he needed the basics of food, a shower, and plenty of rest more than anything. Which meant that now was likely to be the best time to show up to comfort and support him.

They Apparated into Harry's kitchen, only to find that Greg and Millie were snickering in amusement while drinking tea.

“Where's Harry?” Hermione asked, looking around in concern.

Millie pressed a finger to her lips, smirking as she pointed up the stairs.

“ _Why the fuck would you keep this?!_ ”

“Why would I throw it away?!”

“It's a hollowed out _troll leg_!”

“It came with the house!”

“That's no excuse!”

“It must have been important to someone!”

“Yeah, the troll! And what about this?!”

“It's art!”

“It's worse than that wretched painting of the dog pissing on the tree!”

“It's kind of pretty!”

“It looks like someone vomited on the canvas after eating too much food at a party and getting pissed!”

“It does not!”

“It fucking does!”

“Alright, so maybe it does, but that's no reason to throw it away!”

“It most certainly fucking is!”

“It was a gift!”

“I'm beginning to think that someone told your fans that you'll keep anything they send you, and so now they send you their rubbish just to see if you'll take a picture of yourself holding it for the Daily Prophet!”

“They do not!”

“And what the fuck is this?! It looks like someone took parts from three different dead animals and splinched them together!”

“Er... I don't know actually...”

Both Ron and Hermione were snickering at this point. “Sounds like Harry is busy.”

“They've been at it for a while,” Greg informed them.

“Since you're here, Granger, maybe you can help us out a bit,” Millie suggested.

“How so?” Hermione wondered curiously.

“Both Greg and I are shite with extension spells, but the room we're working on needs a couple before we can finish it, and Draco sounds like he might be busy for a while,” Millie explained.

“I'd be happy to help,” Hermione replied honestly. She was looking forward to doing something other than read books about laws and try to figure out how to rewrite them so that the members of the Wizengamot might be willing to agree to change them.

“There's not much I can do to help with that, but I suppose that I can go buy some ale or mead or something to keep us hydrated while we work,” Ron suggested.

“That's brilliant!” Greg agreed with an enthusiastic grin.

By the time that the four of them were ready to take another break – about two and a half hours later – the argument between Draco and Harry had ended abruptly in favor of exclamations of a different sort altogether, which also ended rather abruptly. Silence reigned for a while, but then the argument picked up again until now when Harry suddenly roared so loudly that they wondered if he had cast a Sonorus.

“Fuck this! I'm bloody _starving_!”

Both Ron and Greg cheered because that meant that Harry was about to cook something. Harry didn't waste any time either. He simply ordered Kreacher to prep lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and onions while he crafted ground beef into burgers and fried them in a pan until they were just a hint shy of fully cooked. This meant that the burgers were juicy with just a hint of pink in the very center.

When ready, everyone was able to select their favorite bread from Harry's stasis box – Harry chose sourdough rye while Draco and Hermione both chose sprouted whole grain – and then load their burger with all their favorite fixings. After that, they were all too busy moaning and groaning over how good it was for a few minutes.

Then Ron decided it was time to tell Harry what was on his mind. “I really had no idea that you said fuck that much.”

Harry turned completely red and covered his face with a hand.

Millie cackled in glee. “What was it? Five times in a row?”

“Sounds about right,” Ron agreed.

“I think I counted thirteen times altogether,” Hermione added with an amused smile.

Draco chuckled because – for once – it wasn't him being heckled. Harry looked like he was seriously contemplating hiding under the table or digging a hole in the ground and hibernating in it until the end of time.

Greg frowned in confusion. “Who _doesn't_ say fuck a lot while shagging?”

Millie shook her head and rolled her eyes before kissing him. “Not the point, love.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry that I made this part so short but it only exists to resolve the last part. The next part will probably wrap up the whole series :-)  
> Which means that there is more light angst in store...


End file.
